After another sleepless night, dawn brought further problems to Logan's life. There were students to deal with and a baby intent on tears until the end of time. Leaving the newborn in the capable hands of Jean, he ordered the students to file into an empty classroom and readied himself to read them the riot act. He wanted them to understand there would be a line they wouldn't cross without serious consequences.
Logan stalked from one length of the classroom to the other, his thoughts buried in his lecture. "Most of you have realized Rogue's gone through some changes lately," he said and stopped to scowl at the students. "The ins and outs are none of your business, but she's changed and there's no fixing it." He looked at them and continued to scowl. "Now here's where we come to a crossroads. Rumors always spread under this roof but she's off limits." He unsheathed his claws. "You don't talk about her past. You don't talk about her present. You don't talk about her future. Keep your mouths shut and I won't have to use these," he said, swiping his claws in the faces of the kids in the front row. "Any questions?"
The students shook their heads, and a grinning Spyke whispered to his friend on the back row, "I heard he went balls-deep in Jean and made Scott cry. He's still an asshole, though."
"He's a pussy, not an asshole," Clint whispered back with the widest of grins.
Logan walked over to them with a scowl. "Thanks to these two knuckleheads everybody in this room has extra danger room sessions this week," he announced in a gravelly tone. When they started to receive angry threats, the boys scowled at the smirking Logan.
"Next time keep your comments to yourselves," Logan warned them and returned to the front of the class.
#
With the talk over, Logan chalked it down to a mixed bag. He thought about hitting the gym, but he remembered his promise to Jean and headed to his room. On the way, he sniffed the air and started to scowl. He sniffed again and followed the familiar scent down the second staircase and outside to the patio. There Anna sat, trying to fix her little laced boots. Each time she tried, she made a bigger mess and eventually tucked the laces in the sides. She held his duffle bag by her side and looked ready for her own adventure.
Logan approached her, his brow furrowed. "You going somewhere, Stripes?"
"Ah'm runnin' away because the baby's real annoyin'," she answered, picking up the bag. She dragged it with her and made her way down the steps. "Cryin' and cryin', that's all she does, and Ah don't like it none."
He grunted at her honesty and followed her all the way down to the garage. "How you planning on getting out of here, huh? Those feet of yours will only take you so far."
Anna grinned and pulled a set of keys out of her pocket. She jingled them, running straight for Logan's jeep. "Ah'm gonna drive 'cause it looks real easy and everythin'."
Logan growled, closed the distance between them and snatched the keys from her. He whacked her backside a dozen times, grabbed his bag, and hauled her back to the mansion by her wrist.
She shed tears all the way to her mama's room, trying to twist her arm out of his grip. "Ah hate ya! Ah hate ya!" she yelled loudly.
His brow furrowed when she fought him all the way to the bedroom door. He dragged her along, even when she attempted to sit on the carpet. He tossed his bag in the room and held her still in the doorway, his hands resting on her shoulders. Tilting her head up, he looked her square in the face, eye to eye. "You need to calm down."
Anna gazed at him, her anger fading the longer he held her in his firm grip. Tears rolled down her cheeks, she started to bawl, and eventually, she hugged him. "Ah hate ya," she cried sadly into his plaid shirt.
Logan scooped her up and let her cry against his shoulder. He carried her into the empty bedroom and nudged at the duffle bag with his foot. While he mulled over what she might have packed, he checked the car keys in his hand. They were his spare keys to the jeep. "We need to talk, darlin'," he said, closing the door.
"Ah don't wanna talk to ya," Anna bawled sadly, her face still buried against his shoulder.
He thought back to teen Rogue and how she loved to shut him out too. With a shake of his head, he reached for the bag and dropped it on the bed. When he unzipped it, he had to do a doubletake. It was stuffed full of boxes of pancake batter and bottles of maple syrup. "You raid the kitchen?" he asked her gruffly. She kept up the silent treatment and he dropped her gently on the bed. "Have it your way," he said, patting her back when she hid her face from him in the pillows.
Leaving her alone to sulk, Logan carried the duffle bag out to the hall and closed the door behind him. He headed for his own bedroom and lit a cigar. "Hey Marie," he said and approached the crib in the corner of his room.
Marie was asleep, and he looked down at her, smoking his cigar and lost in his thoughts. The way his life panned out lately made him believe his past wouldn't always haunt him. Suddenly, he realized he was breathing smoke over her and cursed in his head. He snuffed the cigar out on his hand and dropped it in the ashtray. "Jean?" he called out, hearing soft sniffling noises in his bathroom.
Jean was sitting at the bottom of the shower, her knees drawn to her chest. She wiped tears from her face when she heard him open the door. "I'm fine," she said softly. "Don't worry because I'm fine."
Logan kicked his boots off and moved into the shower cubicle. He settled beside her and wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "C'mere, darlin'," he grunted, holding her close.
A stressed Jean let her tears fall in the safety of Logan's arms and under the warm spray of the shower. She stayed there for the longest time until she calmed and gazed at him, apologetic when she noticed his wet clothes.
"Don't worry about it," he said, choosing to keep Anna's latest stunt from her for her own sanity.
"I didn't know how hard it would be as a parent," she admitted, at peace in his arms for the first time in days.
He grunted in agreement and knew she was tired. He could see it in her eyes, the desperate need for sleep. "How about I get you to bed," he said as he climbed to his feet and held his hand out to her. "You can get some proper rest while I take care of the girls."
She took his hand, and he helped her to her feet. "I can't expect you to do that."
Leading her out of the shower, he snagged a towel and wrapped it around her. "I can handle it."
"If I share something with you, I don't want you to overreact," Jean said, guilty he was this concerned about her. "Look, it's not just the parenting that's worrying me."
Logan nodded and steered her to the comfort of his bed. He brushed the wet hair from her face and started to scowl the longer she let the silence grow between them. "I don't like secrets, Jean."
Drying herself off, she slipped one of Logan's old shirts on and watched him fetch a clean set of clothes from his closet. She perched on the edge of his bed and sighed lightly. "I saw Scott earlier."
He looked her way, watching her button his old shirt over her perfect breasts. "Yeah, and what did he have to say for himself?"
She gazed at him as he buckled his belt. "I think I caught him at a bad moment."
Getting the gist of things, Logan scowled and picked his half-smoked cigar from the ashtray. He would be happy to track Summers down and kick his ass.
"No, I don't want you fighting," Jean warned him and offered him her hand.
Logan took her hand, squeezed it and mulled over his choices. He lit his cigar again, but she took it away and crushed it in the ashtray. With an understanding growl, he kissed her. "Try to get some sleep, Red."
Jean smiled, amused and comfortable in his company. He hadn't used that nickname for a long time. "I'm having flashbacks from the France mission last year with you in the tiny pair of shorts."
"And you in the tiny bikini," he growled, his fingers toying with the buttons of her shirt.
"I noticed you looking at me, Logan, even then. I could feel you telepathically," she murmured, moaning when his hand disappeared under the fabric of her shirt.
He smirked at her lustful moans and joined her on the bed. "And now you can feel me right here in the real world, darlin'."
#
Logan carried Marie down the hall, Storm lecturing him nonstop. "I know how to hold a baby," he finally growled at her.
Storm apologized and offered him the use of an old Moses basket she found in the attic. She set it up in Jean's old bedroom while Anna napped on the bed. Logan stood to the side, the baby still sleeping in his arms. He wasn't surprised to see Scott appear sheepish at the door.
"Is Jean here?" Scott asked, his question directed at Storm.
Storm glanced in his direction. "I'm afraid not, she's asleep elsewhere."
The unwelcome news seemed to stir jealousy in Scott, and he glared at Logan. He thanked Storm and walked away, a deep frown on his face and his fists clenched as he imagined punching the Canadian.
Logan handed the baby over to Storm. "I'll be right back," he said, catching up with Scott.
"Leave me alone, Logan," Scott warned him, not in the mood to talk to the man he blamed for destroying his life.
Snorting at that, Logan stopped him at the top of the staircase. "I'm going to have a hard time keeping this civil if you go after Jean the way you did." Now he had Scott's full attention, he laid down the law. "You might not like what happened, but we love each other, and we've got two kids who depend on us. I'm going to level with you, Summers. You broke her heart long before she broke yours, so quit moping around and expecting the whole mansion to walk on eggshells around you."
"She told you about Emma," Scott said, realizing how broken things were between himself and Jean.
Logan turned to walk away. "You lie down with dogs, you'll get up with fleas," he told him gruffly and returned to Storm.
#
Storm finally left him alone, and Logan savoured the peace however long it lasted. Sitting on Jean's old armchair, he closed his eyes and fell into a light sleep. He dozed until he heard a pair of clumsy feet tiptoe closer to him until he could almost hear her mind ticking over.
Anna poked him three times in the chest and was ready to talk to him now. She clambered onto his lap and flicked his nose. "Daddy, ya have to wake up, we've gotta talk."
Grunting, Logan opened his eyes and looked at her. "And what do you have to say for yourself?"
She thought about her answer and stole the cigar from his shirt pocket. Twirling it in her hand, she moved it away from him when he tried to take it back. "Ah don't want to drive anymore," she admitted, stuffing the cigar between his lips.
Logan gently slapped her hands away from the cigar and tucked it back in his shirt pocket. "What else?"
"Oh, Ah'm sorry and all that," she answered because she knew that was what he wanted to hear.
When she moved away, Logan pulled her back. "You have to say sorry like you mean it, Stripes."
Anna gave in and hugged him. "Ah'm sorry, Daddy."
Logan hugged her back, relieved her stubbornness had died during that nap of hers. "You ready to meet your little sister?"
Her nose scrunched up; Anna peered into the basket at the sleeping baby. She still didn't like her, even if she wasn't crying all the time. "Ah've already met her, and Ah don't like her none."
"Well, you're going to meet her again," he said in a gravelly tone, hand on her shoulder as he stood beside her. They both watched the baby for a while, quiet and lost in their thoughts. Eventually, he broached the subject of the past few days. "Anything else troubling you?"
She pointed at Marie with a soft scowl. "Can't we send her back already?"
Logan realized this would be tougher than he first thought. "Marie's here to stay and that's the end of it," he said and settled back in the chair with an unlit cigar between his lips.
Anna reached into the basket and gently poked Marie awake. The baby wriggled, opened her eyes, and stared solemnly at the girl. They gazed curiously at each other and finally, Anna turned to look at her daddy, holding the baby's hand. "Ah think Ah'll let ya and mama keep her."
With a grunt, Logan watched the pair of them spend some time together. "Good to hear, darlin'."
#
The last seven years were the best of Logan's life. Jean and the girls were always there, no matter the enemies they faced or the catastrophic injuries he healed from. Jean constantly said their little family was meant to happen, and he took it as fact. When he sunk into bed that night, his wife kissed him. He snaked his arms around her hips and caressed her naked body. He wore a satisfied smirk and Jean moaned softly as they made love. "I love you," she whispered in his ear.
"I love you too, darlin'," he growled in response, comfortable sharing those words with her.
Before their time together reached its natural conclusion, the communicators on their bedside tables vibrated. Logan growled in frustration, but Jean stroked his arm reassuringly in the darkness. "We can finish this later," she promised him gently.
"This better be important," Logan grumbled and searched for his clothes on the carpet.
Jean turned on the lamp and watched her husband with an amused smile. She dressed in time to follow him out of the door and down to the locker rooms. They parted ways and he winked at her, not realizing it would be the last time he spent with her at the mansion. When the X-Men boarded the jet for their latest mission, Jean sat up front with Storm, navigating their route to their destination. Logan buckled himself in with a scowl and popped his claws several times, in a foul mood because he wanted to return to bed with his wife.
Several hours went by, and as the sun rose, the X-Jet returned through the skies of New York. It landed as normal, but the Professor waited to greet them with a bleak look on his face. He gazed at each X-Man until he saw Logan walk down the ramp. "I'm sorry, Logan," he said.
Without uttering a word, Logan, with his claws unsheathed, stalked out of the hangar and headed straight to the danger room.
Kitty broke down into tears and Bobby hugged her, while Storm brushed her own tears away as she comforted Scott. "It's not your fault," she reassured him.
A grief-stricken Scott shook his head. "It is," he said, in shock as Storm patted his arm.
"There is nothing you could have done differently to change the outcome, Scott," the Professor replied gravelly. "Jean sacrificed herself to save several young lives."
"She's a hero," Kitty wept in Bobby's arms and her teammates silently agreed with her.
#
"Ah hate mah life," fourteen-year-old Anna snapped and crawled along the carpet of her messy bedroom floor, searching for her lost earring. Already running late, she glanced at her busted alarm clock. She hated sharing a room with her little sister, Marie. The girl seemed to break everything, and she could never stay mad for long.
Marie had recently turned seven and crouched down on her knees when she thought she spotted the earring. She picked up a little screw instead and frowned comically. "Where's this from?"
Anna huffed at the question and threw a pile of clothes onto her unmade bed. "How the hell should Ah know, Marie?" She ducked under the bed to check through her things and didn't recognize most of her own belongings. Throwing a handful of junk over her shoulder when she heard the door open, she resumed her search for her lost earring. "It ain't mah fault this time, the alarm broke and ya didn't bother wakin' meh."
"Daddy, where's this from?" Marie asked as she jumped to her socked feet and ran to his side.
Logan walked inside Jean's old bedroom with a stony face and took the screw from the little girl. "I don't know, darlin'," he sighed and hugged her to him.
"Why can't Ah find the stupid earring," a frustrated Anna muttered and looked around at the even messier bedroom floor. "Ah swear to god, Ah'm goin' to flip out if Ah don't find it." She glared at her sister. "Are ya sure ya haven't been playin' with them again?"
Marie shook her head and looked up at Logan. "Did Momma wash my dress?"
Logan studied Marie's hopeful face, picked her up and carried her to her bed. "I'm not sure," he said, settling her on the bed. With a sigh, he watched Anna continue to search the floor. After a while, he called her over to him too.
Anna dumped a schoolbook on her bed with a huff. "Ah'm never gonna find it," she complained and walked over to him.
Sitting between them both, Logan wrapped his arms around their shoulders. "I've got some bad news to share with you."
"Worse than mah missin' earring?" Anna demanded to know, angry he wanted to talk instead of helping her search.
Logan closed his eyes for a moment and decided on the best way to tell the girls about their mother. He hugged them close, readying the words because he knew they were in for a world of hurt.
Anna started to grow suspicious. "Daddy, what's wrong? It's a school day and ya not yellin' even though Ah'm late."
"Me and your mother went on a mission last night along with the rest of the team," he said gruffly, trying to soften his words. "And look, there's no easy way to say this, but there was an accident, and she got hurt."
"But you saved her, and then she saved you," Marie replied softly with a smile because that's always what happened.
"Not this time, darlin'," Logan answered her and held her close.
Roughly pulling away from Logan, Anna left the bed. She guessed what her daddy was about to say and refused to look at him. "Ah don't want to hear it!" she shouted and kicked the mess out of her path. Searching for her earring frantically, she soon gave up when he spoke again.
"Your mother died last night," he explained, drawing Marie into his arms.
As the news sunk in and Marie started to cry, Anna climbed to her feet, grabbed her school bag, and stomped out of the room.
Logan heaved a sigh and watched her leave. He should have known this would happen with Anna, always one step ahead of him when it came to shutting down her emotions. As he hugged his youngest daughter, he thought about the last seven years and wished Jean had known how happy she'd made them all.
#
With her grief chasing her away from the mansion, Anna walked miles through the backstreets and reached the center of Bayville before midday. She gazed at the line of familiar stores, and eventually, after wandering for another hour, she headed inside her mama's favorite jewelry store. She spotted a mirror on a nearby cabinet and gazed angrily at her reflection. Tears threatened to fall from her emerald eyes, but she blinked them away and noticed she was only wearing one earring. With an irritated huff, she started to look around the store until she spotted a pair of silver earrings shaped like angry devils. Another pair caught her eye, and she picked them up too.
"Do you need any help?" a kind voice called from behind the counter.
Anna glanced at the old woman and shook her head. She walked around the store slowly, the earrings held loosely in her hands.
"My daughter-in-law created that jewelry line, all handmade and I couldn't be prouder," she explained, pleased to see the items were popular with a younger crowd.
Glancing down at the two sets of earrings again, Anna decided she didn't need them both. She returned the angry devil studs, and suddenly, with a defiant look, she sprinted from the store as fast as her feet would take her, a pair of earrings clutched tightly in her hand.
The elderly woman hobbled to the door with her walking stick, stumbled and fell on the sidewalk as she attempted to chase the girl. Her pained cry drew a small crowd of people who rushed to help, one man dialing 911 while his daughter wrapped her in a coat to shield her from the weather. She wept on the sidewalk as the rain fell, telling anybody who listened, "It's my hip. I think I've busted my hip."
#
Catching her breath, Anna dropped her backpack in the middle of the bandstand in the empty Bayville Park. She lay down with a scowl, using her bag like a pillow. She heard thunder overhead, but she was kept safe from the downpour in her favorite hiding spot. Turning the pack of earrings around in her hands, she gazed at them and spotted the price tag. "Sixty bucks for these little things?"
She remembered going with her mama for the first time to that store, back when Marie was nothing but a screaming baby. Her mama hushed the baby, pushed the stroller across the tiled floor and picked out a wedding ring. She could still see the way the diamonds had sparkled, and how her mama smiled down at the ring when she tried it on for the first time. It was the same store she'd bought her first pair of earrings from after her mama let her get them pierced for her thirteenth birthday.
All the troubled Anna did that afternoon was muse over her memories until her heart broke. She stayed tucked away from the rain until the sun threatened to set, and eventually, she left the park and made her way home. When she reached the mansion, she trudged up the driveway and felt spots of rain the in the air again. With a huff, she stomped through the garage and into the kitchen.
Logan looked up from his spot at the kitchen table. He sighed in relief when he spotted her and left his chair. "You eaten?" he asked, ready to reheat her plate of food in the microwave.
Anna glared at him because he was still acting strangely. He didn't shout, he didn't even growl or demand to know where she'd been, he just looked defeated. "Ah'm not hungry."
"You still need to eat," he said and heated the food, busying himself with the cutlery.
All she could think was that's what her mama used to do, fix her dinner, and talk about her day. "Stop it, ya not her!" she told him and stormed back to the garage.
With a growl, Logan dropped the knife and fork on the counter and jogged after her. He reached her before she made it outside and grabbed hold of her arm. He turned her to face him and tilted her chin up until they glared at each other. "Now you listen to me," he said with a snarl. "I've given you a full day to yourself, letting you run around town when you should've been here with your sister."
Anna's harsh glare darkened when she heard the anger in his words, and she was ready to disobey every dumb rule he'd ever laid down for her. She wanted to burn the world to the ground because she hated all the hurt locked inside her, ready to ignite it with the strike of a match, instead of grieving like everybody else.
Logan recognized the stubbornness in her eyes, and he growled in her face. "Don't push it, Anna Logan." When she refused to back down, and she tried to pull away, he landed a loud SMACK across her backside.
It only took one heavy swat for Anna's tears to fall. She broke down in his arms and sobbed for her mama. The harsh cries rocked through her body, and she collapsed, sobbing roughly into his shoulder.
Catching Anna before she hit the oil-stained ground, Logan shut off the garage light and carried her back inside to the warmth of the kitchen. He dropped her schoolbag by the table and settled down in his chair again, hugging her tightly. He listened to her tears helplessly, the hundredth time he'd held one of his crying daughters since he'd broken the news of Jean's death.
#
Later that night, Logan checked on the girls. He found them both sound asleep, their tears still drying. He crossed the hall to his own bedroom and stepped inside, inhaling Jean's scent. She was everywhere – from their bedding to the bathroom, on the furniture to every goddamn ornament she insisted they buy. He lit a cigar and dropped onto the bed with his boots still on. His head walked through last night's mission and he growled to himself, watching her powers swamp her until she was no longer there, waves crashing down below the jet as he roared. He clawed his way over his memories, stitching together the mistakes he'd made, and thought of the last time he'd been alone with her in their bed.
When his heart couldn't take the beating, he heaved a sigh and crushed the cigar on his calloused palm. "I can't raise them alone, Jean," he growled in the silence. "I ain't fit to be a single father to two girls."
He hadn't expected an answer and he didn't receive one. Working over his own grief, he smoked his way through his entire stash of cigars and looked surprised when the morning light streamed through the window.
Catching sight of one of the framed photos by her side of the bed, he reached over and slammed it face down. With a weary growl, Logan wanted to pack his duffle bag and head north. Hatching a plan, he packed up his jeep and headed to wake the girls. He crept inside, scooping the sleeping Marie into his arms and carried her downstairs to the garage.
Anna woke to a rough shake of her shoulder. She rubbed at her tired eyes and caught sight of her daddy stepping away. He started to pack Marie's bag, collecting a mixture of clothes without much thought and figured it would be fine. Anna blinked tiredly again and wanted to sleep. "What's goin' on?" she muttered into her pillow.
"We're headed to the cabin," Logan answered and zipped up Marie's bag. When Anna stayed put in her bed, he grumbled and stalked to the door. "When I get back, you better be up and ready to leave."
"Whatever," she answered, paying little attention to him, and was sound asleep before he reached the garage.
Five minutes later, Logan returned with a growl. He expected to find her dressed and packed for their trip, but she was sleeping in her pajamas, dead to the world. He shook his head and crossed the room, tipping up her mattress with a heavy scowl. "This ain't a game, Stripes."
Anna yelped as she fell from her bed and landed in a heap on the floor, a pile of clothes breaking her fall. She raised her own little scowl and eyed the clock on the wall. "Nobody plays games at five in the mornin'."
"Good to know we're on the same page," he told her, offering her his hand.
She slapped his hand away and climbed to her feet, kicking more of her belongings out of her path and wrapping her duvet over her shoulders. Hugging it like a cloud, she trudged to the door and had trouble keeping her eyes open. "Daddy, Ah hate ya so much right now."
"You can hate me in the jeep," he grumbled and guided her down to the garage.
#
Stopping one last time on the outskirts of Bayville, Logan parked at a lonely gas station and eyed the girls in the back. Marie was still sleeping, unaware they had left the mansion, but Anna fixed him with a scowl. "You need anything?" he asked her.
With the duvet still wrapped around her, Anna folded her arms. "Ah want mama and mah bed back," she said, full of attitude.
Logan sighed, leaving the jeep. He filled up the gas tank and headed inside the small store. Grabbing snacks and drinks, he picked up his newspaper and spotted an unfamiliar brand of cigars behind the counter. He bought them, paid for his other items and the tank full of gas, and then walked back to the car as he pocketed the cigars. He spotted Anna stretching her legs.
With a face like thunder, an embarrassed Anna walked around, still dressed in her green pajamas and matching slippers. She took the bag from her daddy when he handed it to her.
"Snacks and drinks for you and Marie," he said and returned to the jeep.
Following him, Anna rooted through the bag and pulled out the newspaper. As her daddy climbed into the jeep, she gazed at the headlines, and something caught her eye. She quickly turned to page four and read all about a jewelry robbery, several sentences jumped from the page, and she just about died on the spot.
A teen girl with a Southern accent, striped hair, and an angry demeanor, stole the $60 earrings from Mrs Pearson's premises and fled into the street. In the pursuit of the thief, Mrs Pearson fell and is currently in Bayville Memorial Hospital with a fractured hip. Her surgery was successful, and she is recovering with her son and daughter-in-law by her side.
Anna's eyes widened and she gasped. The little old lady had broken her hip! Rooted to the spot, a lone tear rolled down her cheek. The guilt was enough to roast her alive until the end of time, but the fear of her daddy finding out would be the real death of her.
Logan left the jeep again, a concerned look on his face. He thought she was missing her mother. He smudged her tears away with his thumb and gave her a quick hug. "You don't have to worry about a thing, you hear me? You and Marie will be just fine."
Nodding silently, Anna pulled away and folded the newspaper. She gulped when he took it from her and shoved her gently in the direction of the jeep. "Let's get on the road, Stripes," he said.
With her gaze willing to follow that newspaper to the ends of the goddamn earth, she watched him tuck it in the side of his door as he settled in the driver's seat. With a calming puff of her cheeks, she climbed onto the backseat beside her sleeping sister. "Daddy?" she called to him, biting the inside of her cheek nervously.
"Settle down for some sleep, we ain't stopping for breakfast until we cross the border," Logan answered and drove away from the gas station.
Anna wanted death to come for her stupid, Southern ass. She closed her eyes, pretending to sleep, but all she could think about was her mama's disappointment and her daddy's rage. While the hours dragged on, sleep evaded her, but she made a stubborn promise to herself. Even if it killed her, she would steal that newspaper from her daddy to stop him from finding out about the lady and the broken hip.